Sophia’s POV
The air inside my father’s house felt suffocating.
I had walked these halls my entire life, but now? Now they felt foreign—tainted by the presence of a woman who had poisoned everything good in them.
And my father?
He had handed her the dagger and let her carve his **legacy** apart.
My heels clicked against the marble floors as I made my way to his office. A maid passed by, lowering her gaze when she saw me, as if **my presence alone was trouble**.
She wasn’t wrong.
I **was** trouble.
For Bayley.
For anyone standing in my way.
I pushed open my father’s office door without knocking.
He was sitting at his desk, a glass of whiskey in hand, staring blankly at the fireplace. When his eyes landed on me, something unreadable flickered in them.
“Have
